


Sending Out Flares

by TerraYoung



Series: Short Stories from the Waverider [4]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: (it's Anna), Autistic Character, Gen, Past Character Death, Slice of Life, Slight and unintentional ableism, Some Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-08
Updated: 2018-02-08
Packaged: 2019-03-15 07:52:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13608903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TerraYoung/pseuds/TerraYoung
Summary: A collection of moments and scenes centered around Ray being autistic.





	Sending Out Flares

1:

 

"Whose turn is it to run the dishwasher?" You ask, rummaging through the silverware drawer. "I'm kinda craving soup, but there aren't any spoons left."

"Could just eat it with a fork," Jax suggests. 

You frown. "But the soup would just slip through the tines. Honestly, it'd be easier to  _drink_  it than -" 

"I was just joking, man." Jax is giving you the classic "how did you not understand a basic rule of social interaction" look that you've seen a million times over the years. He then shakes his head. "I'd say just grab one from the dishwasher, wash it yourself, an' use it for your soup."

"But it's not my turn to -" you cut yourself off as Jax's look intensifies slightly. "Fine. Just this once."

Jax's face clears as he switches the subject to some sports team or another. You're not  _completely_ listening, but you're glad Jax isn't pressing the issue. He may not understand why you reacted like you did but he's apparently chalking it up to just being one of your quirks. Just Ray being Ray.

Maybe one day you'll have the courage to tell him and the rest of the team the truth. 

 

 

2:

 

Everyone's heads turn to you once the location of the next anachronism is announced. The Cretaceous Period. Why did it have to be the  _freaking_  Cretaceous Period? 

The idea of having to be out there, dealing with dinosaurs, is making your stomach churn. You'd dealt with it before by focusing on your mission to get the missing piece of the ship and by talking to Nate and Amaya. You're not so sure you can do that now. 

You start wringing your hands, trying to stave off the semi-inevitable shutdown.

Sara's the first to speak. "You gonna be okay out there, Ray? It's okay if you'd rather stay behind."

Your mouth opens and closes a couple times, but words refuse to come out. Of all the times to go nonverbal...

"Sorry, boss, he can't," Mick announces. You whip your head over to stare at him. "Need his help to fix the heat gun. An' since  _I_  can't go out until it's fixed..."

Sara shrugs. "Fair enough. You two go and work on that. Everyone else - let's work on a game plan."

Mick jerks his head towards the door, which you take as a sign to follow him out of the bridge. You continue to follow behind him until you reach his room. Mick opens that door, waves you inside, and then locks it behind him.

"Sit," Mick orders, pointing to the armchair. You fall into it with a  _thump_. Mick sits on the coffee table and says, "Don't worry 'bout fixing my heat gun. Took care'a that already. Knew you needed an excuse to get outta there, so..."

You open your mouth to thank him, but the words are still stuck. At least in here, away from the prospect of dinosaurs and with Mick's oddly calming presence, the need to stim your shutdown away is starting to fade. You're not sure what Mick's reaction to that would be. 

"You okay?" Mick asks, a touch of concern seeping into his usual gruffness. "Usually you're babbling away by this point." 

The only thing you can do is nod. 

"Know any sign language, or would you rather stick to nodding an' shit?"

You blink, then blink again, before signing, " _I know ASL. How do you know it_?"

"Lenny," Mick answers. His concern's being replaced by melancholy fondness. "He'd go nonverbal from time to time 'cause of bein' autistic, too."

" _You know - How'd you -_ "

"Lucky guess combined with knowin' the signs. Won't tell the others if you don't want me to."

You sag in relief. " _Thanks. Not that I don't trust them or anything, it's just - I'm kinda scared to tell them, but I still want to be the one to do so. That make sense_?"

"More than most of the crazy shit that goes on here," Mick answers. "Wanna stay in here 'til they all head out?"

" _Yeah. Thanks again_."

"Don't mention it."

 

 

3: 

 

"-and this is the first time Scrooge has been voiced by an actually Scottish voice actor," you continue. "Alan Young - the guy who voiced him in the original Ducktales - was from Scotland and lived there for a few years, so he did a good Scottish accent, but he grew up in the US. And speaking of Alan Young, they were gonna try to get him a guest role in the new Ducktales but he died before production started. But they  _are_  going to bring in -"

Sara holds up a hand and your mouth falls shut with an audible  _click_. 

"Hate to interrupt, Ray, but like I've been trying to say for a while now, I promised Amaya I'd spar with her before dinner," Sara says. "Can we pick this up another time?"

You frown, but immediately plaster a smile on your face. "Of course! Just let me know when you're free!"

"Thanks. I will."

 

 

4:

 

You get the last piece of the ATOM suit in place and take a second to sigh happily. Nothing beats being in the suit far as pressure stims go - it encases every part of your body and provides the exact same level of sensation in all of them. Cuddling can make you too warm, and both it and weighted blankets don't cover enough of your body. The ATOM suit is just right. 

You give yourself fifteen seconds to just focus on the pressure before flying out of the ship. Depending on how this mission goes, you might get to sneak into your room with the suit and enjoy the feeling just a little bit longer. 

 

 

5:

 

It's obvious from the second you get up that today's going to be a bad sensory day. Given how stressful the past week has been you're not surprised. Your skin is tingling - and not in the everything has fallen asleep way - and you have to shove your blankets away from your face. They just feel  _wrong_  today, despite how comfortable they'd been last night. 

You consider claiming to be sick and hiding away in your room all day. It'd be selfish of you, but since you know how horrible bad sensory days can be it almost seems worth it. Plus, you can't help the team much like this anyway. 

"Gideon?" You call softly. 

"Yes, Dr. Palmer?" Gideon asks. The robotic twang to her voice grates on your ears. You slam your hands over them to try and block it out. 

"I'm really not feeling good today. Can you please tell the team I'm gonna have to sit out any missions that crop up?"

"Certainly. Would you also like to head to the medbay to run some diagnostics?"

_Please stop talking, please stop talking, pleasestop -_

"No. I know what it is." You can barely refrain from snapping at Gideon. "Just - soundproof my room and don't let anyone in or talk to me unless it's an emergency or I say it's okay. Including you." After a second you remember to add, "Please?"

"Of course," Gideon answers. "I hope you feel better soon."

"You and me both," you answer. You get up to grab your phone, a bottle of water, and a weighted blanket. Then you settle back in bed. It's going to be a  _long_  day. 

 

 

6:

 

You fit a recently repaired piece of the ATOM suit into place and hum satisfactorily. Someone rests their hand on your arm as you're reaching back for the diagnostic tablet. You shake it off with a soft grunt of disapproval before reaching for the tablet again. 

"You're in the zone, I get it," someone says. You can't place who it is when all your focus is on your suit. "Just nod if I can stay until you're done."

After a few seconds and a few taps on the tablet you nod. 

"Thanks, buddy."

Distraction over with, you enhance the image of the faulty part with one hand and root around for the right tool with the other. There's still a lot more work to do.

 

 

7:

 

"Didn't you wear that shirt yesterday, Ray?" Amaya asks at breakfast. 

You look down at your shirt then back to her. "Nah. I got a couple different versions of the same shirt. When I find one that's really comfortable I buy a few more of it - that way I have ones I  _know_  I like. And I don't hafta wait for the next laundry day to wear it again."

"Fair enough."

"I feel the same way about jeans, pal," Nate says. "It can be so  _hard_  to find ones that fit, so I always get like three of the same kind. Makes getting dressed so much easier too - less choices to have to pick between." 

You smile. "Hadn't thought of that last part, but, yeah, that makes sense." You take another bite of cereal. "So what kind of anachronism do you think we'll hafta deal with today..."

 

 

8:

 

You blink. Then blink again. 

"The shower's  _what_?" You ask. 

Zari sighs. "Broken. Mick an' I can take a look at it, but he's too drunk right now and I'm too tired. We'll get to it tomorrow. I'm sorry, but you'll have to wait 'till then to take your shower." She pats you on the shoulder and then walks away. 

"But - but -"  _But I always take a shower before bed every other day!_  You want to shout.  _Even when Kendra and I were stuck in the 50s, I managed to do it! What am I supposed to do_  now _?_  

Sara walks by, does a double-take, and then heads back. "You okay, Ray?"

"The shower's broken!" In your distress you forget not to yell. "The shower's broken and I  _always_  take a shower every other day before bed, but I can't today 'cause it's broken and -"

"Ray?" Sara asks. "Breathe. Deep breath in, hold it, and breathe out." She repeats it a couple times before you manage to calm down. Sara looks around, then leans in to whisper, "There's a secret bathroom just down the hall from Rip's old room. Shower in there should be working." She leans back and winks. "But you didn't hear that from me."

You frown. "But you literally just said it."

Sara snorts, then shakes her head with a smile. "Means that you shouldn't tell anyone I told you. Otherwise they'd get mad at me for not telling them."

"Ah." You wink back. "So no thank you for not telling me, then."

"Sure, Ray," Sara says, laughing. She starts heading off, then calls over her shoulder, "You're not welcome!"

 

 

9: 

 

Leo raises an eyebrow. "You've been reading these books  _how_  long?"

"Since I was six?" You think for a moment. "Yeah, six. My mom gave 'em to me for my birthday."

"Are age levels for books different on your Earth?" Leo asks. "We may not have The Hobbit, but similar stuff was at least for kids eight and up."

You shrug. "I read a lot as a kid. I was running out of stuff to read, so I guess she thought that since it was a harder book it would take me longer to get through it. It did, but only 'cause I kept re-reading my favorite parts. Wasn't really that hard, honestly."

"I'll be sure to return it when I'm done."

"Nah, you can keep it. This isn't my original copy, and I can always ask Gideon to make me another one. Maybe  _your_  Ray will like it." 

"Thank you," Leo says. He smiles - which is really weird on a guy that looks like Snart. "I'll be sure to let you know what I think of it."

 

 

10:

 

You take one bite of your sandwich and immediately start gagging. Taking a look inside reveals that while you'd remembered to ask for gluten-free bread when you'd asked for a replicated version just like the one from your favorite sub shop, you'd forgotten about the onions. Picking them all out would be way too time-consuming, so you just throw the sandwich away and replicate a new one. 

This time you've gotten the right bread and toppings, so you're able to finish your meal without any incidents. It's hard having taste-related sensory issues on top of having celiacs, but you manage. And the replicator helps. 

 

 

11:

 

You last a few hours into the Christmas party before you have to duck out. It's fun spending time with the team - even with the sadness of Jax's departure looming overhead - but that many people in one room becomes too overwhelming for you after a while. The talking becomes too loud, especially with it bouncing off the metal walls, and the pressure of having to keep up with expected social skills gets to be too hard. All the wines and dines you did back at PalmerTech had been your least favorite part of the job. 

Thankfully no one seems to notice when you leave given they're all too busy talking or eating. Or both, in Mick's case. Anyone noticing would've made it awkward, and explaining why you're leaving is one of the last things you need right now. 

You swing by the cargo bay to pick up the ATOM suit, then head for your room. Some pressure stimming feels like a really good idea at the moment. 

 

 

12:

 

"I-I-I-I can't do this," you manage to force out. Your teeth start chattering, but you try to force them to stop. "With Anna - With Anna being alive and the - the Siege right around the corner, I - I -"

"You should head back to the ship, Ray," Sara says gently. "Can you get there by yourself, or do you need help?"

"Help," you choke out. You start tearing up, but you can't tell if it's because of the impending meltdown or embarrassment over having a meltdown. It's not fun either way.

Amaya walks towards you. "I'll go with you." She grasps your arm - probably with the intent to steady you - but you jerk it out of her grip. 

"Sor-Sorry," you say. "Touch isn't really - isn't really a good idea right now."

"Okay. I'm going to stay close though, in case you collapse. Is that okay?"

You nod, then start heading back to the Waverider. 

After what seems like both an eternity and only seconds later, you and Amaya finally make it there. You manage to get up the ramp and into the cargo bay before your legs get too weak to stand with. Then you wedge yourself between a couple of crates right as the worst of the meltdown hits. 

The tears in your eyes pour down your cheeks as you start to sob. You pull your knees up, wrap your arms around your legs, and bury your face in your arms. Out of the corner of your eyes you can see Amaya reach out, then retract her arm. 

"Is there anything I can do for you?" Amaya asks. 

"Stay?" You choke out. "Please?"

"Of course."

"No touching."

"I understand," Amaya says. "Let me know if you need anything else."

You lose track of time again. The sounds of your sobbing and ragged breathing echo throughout the room. You start feeling too warm, but your death grip on your legs prevents you from trying to cool down. 

Eventually the tears run out. Eventually your breathing begins to slow. Eventually your arms loosen. And eventually you feel enough in control of yourself to look up.

"I - I think I'm done," you say, your voice hoarse. You reach up to wipe away your tears, hand shaking slightly. 

Amaya hands you a handkerchief. You thank her, take it, and use it. 

"I'll wash it and get it back to you. Promise."

"No rush." Amaya bites her lip for a second. "Can I ask what that was? I've heard of panic attacks from Nathaniel, but that looked a bit more... intense than that."

"'S a meltdown," you answer. You take a deep breath and release it. "Different for everyone that's autistic, but that's how they are for me most of the time. It's kinda like - Say my brain's a pot of water. Stress or bad experiences or bad memories or things being too loud or bright or something else or all of them together equal the heat being turned on and the water boiling. Meltdowns are like when the water boils over the edge of the pot." You shake your head. "That's the best I can do right now."

Amaya smiles gently. "That's okay. What's 'autistic', though?"

"I'm - I'm sorry, but I don't have the spoo- the energy to explain that to you," you answer. "Can you wait? Or ask Gideon - jus' stay away from Autism Speaks. They're bad."

"I'll wait. Do you want help getting to your room?"

You slowly but surely stand up, using the crates for leverage. "Follow behind in case I collapse?"

Amaya nods. 

The two of you head out of the cargo bay together. 

 

 

13:

 

Mick lays a hand on your shoulder, cutting you off mid-babble. "I  _get_  it, Haircut. You can stop explainin' now."

"You sure?" You ask. "'Cause it doesn't feel like I've explained it  _properly_ , y'know? Like I haven't used the right words or found the right phrase or something."

"I'm sure." Mick half-smiles. "'S not like you were explaining rocket science or anything." You open your mouth. "An' that wasn't an invitation to start explaining rocket science." Mick shakes his head, then rolls his eyes. "C'mon, let's go get you a drink before you start babbling again."

 

 

14:

 

"I've  _got_  it, Nate," you snap. You finally get the book off the shelf, set it down, and groan. "Ugh, I'm sorry. I'm just feeling really grumpy lately. Dunno why."

"It's fine, man," Nate says. "And have you eaten or slept recently? I know I can get grumpy if I haven't done either in a while."

You frown before running a mental tally. Grumpy? Check. Tired? Unsure if check. Weird feeling in stomach? Check. Can't remember the last time you ate? Check. 

"I think I might be hungry," you finally reply. "I don't really feel tired, and I can't remember when I ate last."

Nate smiles, then throws an arm over your shoulder. "Then you're probably hungry. Let's take a break from research and get something to eat. My treat."

"Thanks." You smile brightly in return.

A few minutes later, Nate begins, "Stop me if I'm overstepping some kinda boundary, but... Are you autistic? 'Cause I am, and you do a lot of the stuff I do 'cause of being autistic. Especially the hyper-fixating thing. Buddy, you wouldn't  _believe_  how much time I've lost due to getting engrossed in history books."

"I doubt I'd be surprised," you tease. "And I... Yeah, I'm autistic, too. Nice to know I'm not alone.”

"Oh, before I forget - Got any recommendations for a chew stim necklace? I've been looking for ages and I can't seem to find one I like..."

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by https://sh4tterstar.tumblr.com/post/165043280810/rowdyvamp-there-are-some-characters-where this post.  
> Most of these are inspired by my own experience, some by others'. Just plain italics are thoughts, italics in quotes are ASL.


End file.
